


Path to Closure

by SocialDeception



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Anal Sex, Broken Leon, Grief/Mourning, I don't know if I missed anything., M/M, Oral Sex, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Weird-ass sex, creepy sex, self-destructive behaviour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 17:56:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6386488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocialDeception/pseuds/SocialDeception
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been two years since Krauser died, and Leon has found a way back to life. Chris is there to hold his hand,  although they are two halves that almost, but not completely, fit together. It might be a strange echo of what it once was, but life has gotten bearable. At least until Leon starts seeing someone familiar from his past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Scarefox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarefox/gifts).



> So I know we haven't spoken a lot, so I hope I'm not being totally creepy when I give you this: The gift no one would ever want.
> 
> A little backstory here. A while ago, you made a post on Tumblr about how Leon probably went to Krauser's funeral. I really liked the idea, and knew I had to steal it for something. I didn't know it would be this, and forgive me for gifting this to you. It's been in my "maybe" folder for a while now, and I decided to just go ahead and finish it.
> 
> It may not be a fluffeh read, but I hope you like it anyway! ;) (And by golly, I hope you're still into this pairing D;)
> 
> Also a heartfelt thank you to my lovely beta and horribly honest friend Hammocker, who is a far better writer than I could ever dream to be. I urge everyone to go check out her stuff <3

* * *

 

_For every good moment. For every happy memory. There will be equal part sadness._

Leon tensed his jaw and swallowed thickly.

_That is the deal. That is the deal._

The hand holding the bouquet of flowers felt ice cold and clammy, like the rest of him, and he tried to ease his grip on the flowers before he crushed them completely.

_This isn't how it was supposed to be._

His thoughts looped like that and he felt unable to escape it.

_This isn't how it was supposed to end._

It wasn't as if Leon had never thought about death before. In his line of work it would be irresponsible not to, but not like this.

He stared at Krauser's coffin, but felt oddly empty. A tensed up empty shell. It seemed oddly fitting. He was as empty as Krauser's coffin.

_Love is a cage._

That seemed fitting as well. His heart was beating against his rib like a caged animal, but more than just that. He felt like an animal must be feeling as danger closes in. No eloquent words anymore, just blank terror.

It would have been easier if he could have said goodbye. Not an empty casket. Maybe if he could have held Jack's hand one last time. But thinking about that made his stomach churn. The thought of Jack's strong fingers lifeless and cold seemed worse than the empty coffin in many ways.

There was no fight left. Just horrible, cold apathy accompanied by nauseating panic.  
Feeling completely alone, even with people all around him, he kept staring at the coffin without acknowledging the others.

_They aren't him. They aren't even who they used to be._

The priest's words were warped and twisted as they started lowering the casket into the ground. It was irrational, but Leon got a horrible sinking feeling that they were taking Jack away from him, putting him in that final boundary between the living and the dead. Part of him wanted to jump in there with him. Again, he was being irrational.

Jack wasn't there.

The feeling in his chest was peculiar, like being crushed from the inside, like something was collapsing and pulling him down along with it. Like gravity suddenly behaved differently, pulling him down too hard. Leon tried to steady himself as he faltered a little bit, trying to draw in enough oxygen to keep him on his feet, but it was like all the oxygen was gone.

Still, he refused to show this kind of weakness in front of the people there. He still had his mask of iron on, face unreadable as he glared blindly at the first handfuls of dirt being tossed onto the casket.

Each hit on the coffin lid like a punch in the gut, each handful resonating and echoing in him, just like it echoed on top of the empty coffin.

 _Jack, you stubborn bastard,_ Leon thought, one corner of his mouth hitching a little. _You said you'd be back._

It was Leon's turn and he dug his hand into soft, pungent soil. It molded to his hand as he extended it over the coffin.

_Am I taking too long? Is my hand shaking too much?_

He turned his palm down, extending trembling fingers as he watched the soil fall and hit the coffin with sickening thuds.

_You said you'd be back for me._


	2. Chapter 2

It's a funny thing, grief. Maybe not so much funny as tragic and all-consuming.

Maybe pain is a funny thing as well.

Some days there was nothing left. Some days he could almost forget it, because pain isn't something that's easy to hold on to. Sometimes he preferred the pain to the days where he'd feel normal again, normal until he'd find one of Jack's shirt on his side of the dresser, and the intensity of the pain would make him fall to his knees, clutching the fabric as if it was the only thing left in this world.

He made a mental note never to judge people in grief, because grief really is a funny thing.

Grief makes you do strange things.

Grief makes you cry over a stray hair on a hairbrush. Makes you listen to old voicemails, crying and laughing until there's nothing left. Makes you unable to wash that spoon left on the counter.

Worse still, grief makes you replay every fight. Every angry word and every bitter silence, until you're unsure if there ever was anything else. Grief makes you want to hold on to everything. Every little memory, even the bad ones, because grief makes you forget.

Each day he'd realize he was losing Jack again. Small pieces every day. One day he realized he had forgotten how Jack laughed, and that was like losing him all over again.  
Because as he tried to keep himself moving, his brain tried to erase every little memory of Jack.

And that was how Leon hit rock bottom.

He found that a beer or six would take the worst sting out of everyday living, and one night at a bar after too many drinks he found himself a bit too close to an attractive stranger. He was nothing like Jack, but he had that same sort of look that Jack had when he wanted Leon. Or maybe it was just the angle of his cheekbones.

Either way the stranger looked at Leon with hunger in his eyes, a hunger Leon hadn't felt or seen for a long time, and for whatever reason he didn't walk away.

 _This doesn't mean I didn't love you, Jack._ Leon pleaded in his head. _This doesn't mean I don't still love you._

But it still felt like deceit when the stranger stroked a calloused hand over Leon's thigh, Leon's breath catching in surprise. The surprise was soon forgotten as he leaned into the touch, the stranger stroking further up his leg.

It felt horrible and wrong, so Leon closed his eyes, thinking of the first time Jack touched him like that. It didn't feel the same, but if he closed his eyes tighter he could almost imagine that this stranger was the person he lost.

The stranger was unaware, Leon doubted he'd so willingly touch him if he knew what Leon was thinking, then again, as long as Leon was willing to give him what he wanted, then maybe he'd anyway. Maybe he'd stay for a little longer.

So when the stranger pulled Leon into the alley behind the bar, Leon didn't protest. He didn't really say yes, but at the same time he didn't pull away. He craved intimacy, craved someone wanting him. Craved someone giving him anything besides this mind-numbing emptiness.

The stranger's hand were rough, not rough like Krauser's, but close enough. He didn't bother kissing Leon, didn't bother preparing him, just spit in his hand before smearing it over his own erection.

Physical pain was a lot easier to deal with, in a way. Something tangible. Not as shadowy.  
So Leon bit down on his own arm as the stranger entered him. Jack would be rough at times, but he'd always take great care in making sure Leon was okay.

This person was nothing like Jack.

 _But he's closer to me now._ Leon thought desperately. Because now he could remember. Remember all those little details that made Jack his.

He shut his eyes so hard the world was nothing but bright sparkles, the jagged thrusts of the stranger making the edge of the metal railing dig into his forearms, but that was okay. The burning pain was good. The burning pain was easier to deal with.

This way he could think of Jack.

Think of how the light would hit his face in the early mornings. Of how he'd always, always wrap his arms around Leon as they made coffee in the morning. That small scar on his chin he never asked how happened.

Not this stranger. Not his touch. Not his panting somewhere behind Leon, he tuned it all out. Not even hard, because there was nothing sexy about this. Just never-ending pain and even more painful memories.

And that was okay for a while. For a while that was okay.

He could live on those fleeting memories for a while. Until they were gone again, and he'd find himself in the arms of someone new. Every one of them with something that reminded him of Krauser. A smile here, slicked back hair there. A gravelly voice. Strong hands. Like if he could cut pieces of them all he'd be able to get him back.

He'd sometimes wonder why they didn't care. Why they didn't notice he'd never be hard. Why he'd cry as they fucked him. Why he'd sometimes throw up after they were done, because he hated himself so much. Hated what he was doing to the memories of Jack.

But life goes on. Life goes on until it doesn't. And that's a simple truth.

Every now and then he'd realize he had gone the whole day without thinking of Jack, and those days were bittersweet and horrible all at once. Bittersweet because he was no longer bound by the emptiness in his chest, horrible because it was like he was betraying Jack. Not just losing him, but losing the one saving grace he thought he had. The intensity in which he both loved and missed him.

But life goes on. Pain is forgotten. You might never get over loss, but your brain will try to smooth it over somehow.

 

* * *

 

_This doesn't mean I didn't love you, Jack._

Leon was reminded of the turning point every time he looked at his own reflection in the mirror.

One day while washing his hands he'd caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and for the first time in a long time he allowed himself to really look. He stared at the hollowed-out shell of who he used to be, and dared for the first time to ask what he was doing. He wasn't just hanging desperately on to the past, hanging on to him, refusing to move on, even though every man he met had him do just that. Each encounter pushing him further and further away from who he used to be and who Jack used to love. Not just that, but punishing himself for loving. Punishing himself for losing.

He'd stop caring. Stopped caring about himself, the apartment they had shared and any future he might have. Rotting away like the trash he was surrounded by.

 _Do you remember that time he died?_ He asked himself, staring at the dark circles around his eyes. _Do you remember how you didn't think you'd be able to move on? Do you remember how you thought you had died with him?_

And that was true. Parts of him had been buried with Jack that day.  
His knuckles were as white as the porcelain he clung to when he decided that even if that part was buried with Jack, that didn't mean the other parts weren't worth salvaging.

_You survived that. You'll survive this._

And he did. He does.

He'd never admit it, but he always had sort of a romantic idea that he'd never love anyone again. Maybe it was just that he didn't want to love again. Never hurt again. Never allow anyone in like he did Jack. But life doesn't work like that.

Life fucks you over in ways you cannot imagine. And so one day Leon found himself looking at Chris a whole new way.

He was nothing like Jack. Nothing like any of the shadowy strangers. Hard-muscled and strong-jawed, but lacking the edge Jack had. That cynical, hard edge.

They had both lost someone. They were both broken.

But it's good. Life is good again.

It's not like he stopped thinking of Jack, but he'd think of him in a different way. The memories rosy through the glasses of remembrance. And Chris. Sweet, kind Chris would let Leon do what he had to do. Let him keep that battered old picture of Jack in his wallet. He let him do whatever he needed to get past it.

Because grief makes you do strange things, and Chris knew this. He'd been there.  
He was patient, because despite all of this, despite all the tears and sorrow, he knew Leon had to get past it.

 

* * *

 

 

It didn't end with Chris though, even though Leon hated to admit that.

His chest still ached around the hollow Krauser had left behind. He could be sitting out in the sun with a beer in his hands enjoying whatever when he'd be back in chilly February, and life would feel like it did then. Like someone punched his gut, because he was suddenly back to the moment when Krauser had died. It didn't hurt in the same way, for some reason this felt worse. His past and his present jumbled up and broken. Like something had broken in him and been put together wrong. Chris on one side, Krauser, always looming on the other.

If he tried to focus on the feeling it would disappear, but if he allowed himself to live briefly in it, it was as if he could taste the chill in the air and that familiar heaviness in his chest. Death made things more real, there was some sad irony in that.

When Leon had been informed of the helicopter crash, it was as if the world stopped spinning for a moment. A cliche, but true nonetheless.

It had been a clear winter morning, one of those days where you can feel spring in the air, like it was right under the surface. There was a chill in the air, but dew in the grass, not frost.

He remembered the dew especially, because it stuck to his boots as he simply pushed his chair back and walked outside. Remembered that particular smell in the air. Like some sort of hyper-reality, every little detail savoured and saved. His brain had been empty for a while after that, simply existing for a few moments before the pain made his knees buckle.

And even though he was better now, _I'm better now_ , he'd still be transported back to those days in a flash. Sometimes when the phone rang he'd feel a cold sweat break out as he remembered that phone-call.

_Leon, I'm sorry, but..._

He cut those thoughts short before they could burrow too deeply in him. Ha had changed his cell phone, moved out of their shared apartment, all but change his name, yet the past was still looming over him. What a pathetic creature he was. What a despicable human being.

Normal people dealt with their problems. And how many friends hadn't he lost? How many civilians? Maybe Jack was just the final straw that finally broke him.  
Good thing Chris had saved him.

 

* * *

 

 

They sat in silence, staring out at the ocean. Not really an exciting adventure for two young-ish men, but for some reason they found themselves doing this a lot. Not talking, just watching the sunset with their hands linked together.

Both found some calm in it, because they were still broken men. Both dealing with things none of them could really let go of. Like they were both broken halves that almost, almost, fit together.

Chris rubbed his thumb against the palm of Leon's hand in a small circle, and it made Leon smile. He did that right before their first kiss, and that small movement had been the most successful part of the whole thing. Chris had leaned against him, their noses almost colliding as their lips met. And just as Chris put his hands on Leon's face, Leon had choked against his mouth, pushed him back and left.

He had cried more in that year than any of the previous ones, and he found himself hating it. It made him feel weak. Chris didn't seem to think so, he'd simply enclose Leon in his strong arms, holding him until there was no more sadness left in him.

It would re-surface. The pain. The grief. That intense feeling of loss. And Chris would be right there to take it all away.

Leon sometimes wondered what Chris was getting out of the deal, but the bigger man seemed satisfied. Like his demons were chased away by Leon's mere presence. Leon envied that, envied Chris' ability to look forward, even with all the shit he had endured.

  
Even if he was broken, he hadn't completely broken down.


	3. Chapter 3

Leon cursed silently as he glanced at his watch. He was already late, but there was no way he'd leave without his cup of coffee.

He wasn't angry with the young girl behind the counter, and he tried not letting his stress show. She was new here, and her hands trembled as she got his coffee ready.

They had put her on the morning shift, the worst kind of shift for a trainee, the people behind him in line were already mumbling angrily, despite the tag on her shirt that said she was new. Leon hid a smile when he realized he'd probably rather take on a couple of Lickers than a group of angry, coffee-deprived people in the early morning hours.

The trainee moved the travel mug of coffee across the counter carefully, and Leon thanked her and tipped her a little extra. Looking back at the others, he figured she'd need a little extra kindness today.

He opened the door with his shoulder, shuddering a little as the cool wind hit his face. It was nearing March already, though he didn't know how that had happened. Seemed like they had rushed to get all the Christmas gifts together just a few days ago.

He was finally weaning off the antidepressants his therapist had put him on after Jack's death, and Leon had this strange feeling of being new to the world again. It seemed brighter, somehow, not in terms of happiness, really, but actual physical terms. He almost felt as though he had been stuck in a dull, grey room and was now finally being let out, seeing colours for the first time in years. And perhaps that was the way it was.

It seemed fitting for the season as well. A fresh start for a fresh year. Leon smiled as he raised the cup to his face, even the smell of coffee seemed more real now. The travel cup was halfway up to his mouth when he stopped, his smile dying on his lips.

About half a block in front of him there was a man walking.

Blonde hair slicked back, broad shoulders. He knew it wasn't, he knew it couldn't be, but his heart still skipped a beat. Icy chills went down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold outside. And he found himself unable to move.

It wasn't Krauser. It couldn't be, but his insides still turned to ice.

It couldn't be, but it had to be.

No one else walked like that, they couldn't, because that was one of the things that made Krauser _Krauser_ , and the thought of anyone else looking or moving the same way made his hands tremble. The smell of coffee suddenly made him nauseated and he forced himself to take a few steps forward, arms slumping at his side. The man was already disappearing in the crowd and Leon felt another tightening of his chest.

_I can't let him leave again!_

It was a ridiculous thought, but one it was suddenly hard to ignore.

He tossed his coffee in the nearest trash can, pushed all the thoughts about how ridiculous the situation was as he started running. All his good manners suddenly gone as he pushed through people, trying to catch up with him.

Every now and then there would be a break in the crowd, allowing him to see Krauser's back in the crowd before being swallowed up again. He ran blindly, Krauser's back like a lighthouse in the dark and he gasped for air as he tried to catch up with him.

It was like one of those nightmares; no matter how fast he ran he didn't seem to be able to catch up to the man in front of him. He felt as if he was running in syrup, running in place, or running on a treadmill. He wasn't getting anywhere, and the man in front of him disappeared even though he was merely walking.

 _Just a little more_ , Leon grunted as he broke through a group of people.

He should have been able to see him now, but the street was empty. Leon groaned and put his hands on his thighs, panting harshly.

 _I didn't make it_ , he thought desperately, eyes wide open as he stared at his own breath hanging in the air. _Just like before, I was too late._

The steady surge of adrenaline died down, and he felt his legs tremble a bit as he straightened up.

 _Maybe this is something I need to talk to my therapist about,_ Leon wondered, but bit his lip and shook his head. _No, if I tell her then she'll put me back on the meds. I'm better now. I'm okay._

He hated to admit it, but going back on the medication would feel like defeat to him. And he wondered how Chris would take it, knowing he wasn't enough for Leon to get over Krauser.

 

* * *

 

"You okay?" Chris stared at him with badly veiled concern, knowing fully well how much Leon despised it when he worried about him. "You look pale."

"Didn't get my morning coffee." Even if it wasn't the truth, it wasn't a lie either.

"Ah." Chris smiled, scooting over to give Leon room to sit down next to him.

"So what looks good?" Leon changed the subject, fiddling with the corner of the menu with disinterest.

"I don't know about you, but this weather had me craving pasta." Chris leaned over and tapped his finger on some Italian name on the menu. Leon recognized the Italian word for "cream" and his stomach lurched.

"Sounds good, but I think I'll go for something lighter, maybe a soup or something."  
Chris made eye-contact with the waiter who immediately came over to take their order. Leon stared out the window while Chris talked, out at the small park.

He stared unblinkingly at the pond until his eyes stung, not even noticing that Chris had spoken until the other man waved a hand in front of his face.

"Hey, you sure you're okay?"

"Hm? What? Yeah, I'm fine." Leon blinked against the harsh light and stared at the glass of water he hadn't even noticed the waiter had brought over. "Just a lot on my mind."

Chris stared at him, a crease forming between his eyebrows, but he didn't say anything.  
Everything old had become new again. Him missing Krauser, and Chris looking at him as if he was expecting him to jump out the window at any second.

"So we finally have the weekend off. Considering how it rarely syncs up, how do you want to take advantage of that?" Chris leaned forward, resting a hand on Leon's thigh as he brushed his lips gently with his. The familiar and comforting feeling of Chris had Leon relax a little, actually considering a lazy weekend in.

"I guess I should be suggesting exciting adventures, but truth be told, I'd rather we just stayed home in bed."

Chris chuckled against his lips, tightening the grip on Leon's thigh.

"The two aren't mutually exclusive, you know." His voice had dropped down to a low growl, and Leon closed his eyes and smiled.

"You're gonna make it hard to get through this lunch, Chris." He whispered, and Chris chuckled.

Leon couldn't quite shake the feeling he had, like he'd had a bad dream that wouldn't quite let go, but it would probably pass with a good night's sleep. Or after whatever it was Chris had planned. So he leaned back, trying to follow along to the story Chris was telling him.

 _I'tll be okay._ He thought. _I'll be okay._


	4. Chapter 4

In the end their quiet adventures at home was exactly what Leon needed. They spent long afternoons fucking slowly in their bed, followed by lazy showers and even lazier evenings on their worn couch, watching cheesy romantic movies and eating ice cream straight out of the containers.

Leon burrowed himself in Chris’ arms, reminding himself how far he’d gotten. How lucky he was to have not only found one, but two people he could be this comfortable with.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Chris asked, ruffling Leon’s hair with one hand.

“You.” Leon smiled up at him. “And that I want more ice-cream.”

“Wanna go get more?” Chris grinned when Leon nodded.

 

* * *

 

It was a late Sunday evening, and the supermarket was almost empty, just a few college students going for beer and late-shifters getting microwave dinners.

Chris and Leon strolled along the aisles, getting microwave popcorn and junk, taking turns making fun of it.

It felt nice though, positively domesticated, and Leon even nudged Chris playfully as they made for the ice cream section.

“Vanilla, chocolate or some weird, modern hybrid?”

“You’re not that old. I’m sure Rocky Road was a thing even when you were a kid.” Leon snickered, reaching for a tub of ice cream marked “Cheesecake Madness!” That would be interesting.

Behind him Chris reached for another two tubs.

“What?” He said, when Leon shot him a look. “We have the whole weekend off! If you don’t think that is cause for celebration, then I pity you, Mr. Kennedy.”

“No judgement. Not even when that flat stomach of yours starts bulging.”

Chris laughed. “You’d welcome that, and you know it.”

“True.” Leon admitted, pushing the cart towards the checkout counter.

While Chris unloaded their cart, Leon stared out the dark windows near the front, feeling strangely nostalgic. He shifted his gaze to Chris when he paid, smiling at the bigger man. Once he’d gotten past that unsettling encounter earlier, he had gotten a newfound appreciation for Chris. They weren’t a perfect match, but close enough.

“You all ready to go?” Chris had both paper bags in his arms, protesting weakly when Leon took one of them.

As they walked towards the revolving doors there was a man coming through in the opposite direction, walking towards them. Leon wanted to turn around, but he kept walking, his eyes fixed on the man as they moved closer.

It was Krauser. It was Krauser's eyes. His nose. His lips.

Leon licked his own nervously, forcing himself to walk forward, stiffly now. It didn't seem like Chris even noticed, still talking about something Leon couldn't keep his focus on. Krauser was coming closer, in a minute he'd look up and see Leon, and Leon's stomach knotted in icy panic. Krauser would see Chris, see right through both of them and know Leon betrayed him.

It felt like he was gonna pass out. Pass out or get sick or both.

He wanted to leave. Run away, but he didn't. Staring stiffly at Krauser instead as he moved towards them. Krauser looked up, looking into Leon's eyes and Leon had to catch his balance. A trained fucking killer, and one look from this man was enough to make his world tip over.

But then his features changed. Melting slowly away, until it was someone else. Not Krauser. Just some stranger that looked at Leon with slight, detached concern as they passed each other.

Leon turned, staring at the man as they walked in opposite directions, and he wondered if this man was the same he'd seen the other day. Maybe this had nothing to do with sleepless nights, lack of medication or anything else. Just some man that happened to look a little like the person he had lost.

Chris intertwined their fingers, glancing sideways and catching Leon’s eyes so he could grin at him. One of those goofy grins that always, without fail, made Leon feel better.

 _A minor setback. Nothing more_. Leon held on to Chris’ hand as they moved into the night.


	5. Chapter 5

Leon wasn’t sure how long he’d slept when he woke with a start. He wasn’t sure what had woken him, if it had been a sound, a movement or a feeling that something wasn’t right.

Leaned over him in the half-darkness was Krauser. Leon stared at him for a minute without moving, convinced it was another nightmare. But Krauser didn’t move, just smiled that crooked smile that might have seemed insincere on anyone else.

“Did I scare you?” he simply said, his voice just as Leon remembered.

It was Krauser. Really him. Leon raised his hands shakily to cup his face, stroking his thumb over Krauser's soft lips, trailing down further to caress that small scar on his chin. It wasn't one of the flickering strangers, this time it was really him.

Krauser didn't speak, he rested on one elbow as he touched Leon's face carefully with his free hand, a soft smile playing on his lips. There was so much Leon wanted to say, but he couldn't. He choked on his words, tears leaving wet trails down his temples and into his hair.

_Jack._

He wondered fleetingly if Krauser could even recognize him anymore, which was stupid, because Krauser was right there, touching him and looking at him like he was the only person in the world.

_Again._

_I'm sorry._ That was all Leon wanted to say. _I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I defiled what we had. I'm sorry I moved on. I'm sorry I didn't._

He turned his head to look at Chris sleeping beside him, but Krauser just tilted his head right back, those stormy blue eyes staring endlessly into him, trailing his thumb across Leon's bottom lip. Leon could smell the faint smell of gunpowder, and he knew that if he were to lick his lip, he'd taste it as well.

Just like it used to be.

He should ask how Krauser got in. How he got back. If he was even there at all, but Leon was afraid to open his mouth, should the spell break and Krauser disappear again.  
So he stared instead, stared at that perfect face he thought he had forgotten, but he realized he couldn't have. His mind conjuring up his image so perfectly it's like he never left.

Like he had never been gone at all.

For a second he wondered if this was just a dream, but Chris moved in his sleep, disproving that theory. He wondered if his subconscious would do this to him. His dead lover touching him while his current slept next to him.

He felt buried alive, and he was. They buried him along with Krauser that day.

Krauser leaned down to kiss him. Far more gently than he ever did in life, gently, gently. No teeth, no playful malice. No all-consuming lust, just a soft, soft caress.

"I missed you." He whispered against Leon’s lips, but he couldn't answer, because he was too terrified to speak and too terrified to move.

He could feel his mouth opening, but not a single sound escaping. It felt as though his eyes were bulging, that he really was drowning, but Krauser didn't seem to notice. He just leaned back down, kissing Leon again. Still gently, but more possessive now, his hands trailing down to Leon's wrists so he could pin them at his sides. Leon's chest was burning, though he wasn't sure why. Maybe this strange apparition was stealing what was left of air in his lungs.

"Did you miss me?" Krauser pulled away, his voice still soft, but unsure now, which was strange. Krauser was never unsure in life. Maybe this was all in Leon's head after all, his own insecurities speaking through the image of Krauser.

_Do I still miss you, Jack?_

And he must, because he tugged free from Krauser's restraints, folding them around his broad back instead, leaning his head against Krauser's chest.

He was warm. Soft, but hard, tendons and muscle rippling under the skin as he returned the embrace. The same smell. A warm comforting smell of laundry detergent and motor oil. Gunpowder and cologne. The smells that reminded Leon that Krauser wasn’t just his lover, but a trailed killer. Domesticated and wild all at once.

Something had changed though.

Leon could hear the blood in his own ears, the quiet rustling of bed sheets and the faint sounds of the city outside the window, but Krauser's chest was silent. Empty. It should horrify him, but it made him cling to Krauser harder instead.

_Please don't leave me again._

Krauser stroked his hair, humming gently and comforting as he breathed against it.  
Chris stirred beside them again, but didn't wake. Not even when Leon made a choked little sound as Krauser trailed a hand down his waist and down to his hip.

 _Why have you come here?_ He wondered wildly. _Are you here to dig me down deeper with you?_

Krauser's breath was against his ear, his voice suddenly feral and low.

"Tell me you're mine," he growled. "Tell me you're still mine."

_Is that why you came? To make sure I'm still yours?_

The sad part was that it was true. It was true. His body reacted to Krauser's voice, every part of him tingling as the bigger man tightened his grip around Leon's hair. He bit down the sides of Leon's neck, re-claiming every part of him lost.

Despite the terror in his chest he could feel himself growing hard as Krauser kissed his chest, down his abdomen before licking the crease where Leon's hip connected to his thigh, trailing his mouth lower than Leon wanted, lower than he should want, biting too hard at the sensitive flesh of Leon's inner thigh. Leon whimpered, dulled by Krauser's hand over his mouth.

The whimper was quickly replaced by a moan as Krauser's hot mouth sank down on his erection. Leon shuddered and jolted against the sensation between his legs. It had been too long, and Krauser's mouth was too warm, too wet and too skilled at what he was doing.

"I'm yours!" He bucked against Krauser's mouth. "Jack...!"

But Krauser didn't stop, just kept going as Leon shuddered and came into his mouth.  
He jolted awake as he emptied his release into his underwear, Krauser's warm lips replaced by clammy fabric.

He panted harshly into the darkness, his eyes open wildly as he stared around the room. It was empty. Like expected. Krauser was gone.

 _He was never here,_ Leon corrected himself, although he hated the thought of that. For some reason the thought of a shadowy Krauser that could come and go as he pleased seemed easier to deal with, because that would at least mean he was alive.

Leon glanced over at Chris, still sleeping unaware.

 _This doesn't mean anything,_ Leon thought sluggishly, awkwardly getting out of bed. He'd hate to have to explain this to Chris.

The bathroom lights blinded him for a second as he made his way to the sink. He got out of his underwear, tossing it directly into the washing machine. It suddenly felt like a big horrible secret. He filled it up with towels before turning it on, and then stumbled into the shower.

The hot water cascaded over him, and he kept his mouth open under the spray, trying to erase the familiar taste of Krauser.

It hurt too much. Hurt knowing that his brain stored this kind of information for him, like painful little surprises. Looking through old photos was a mine-field, he knew this already, because a photograph could ignite memories he thought were lost. Yet this felt different. It wasn't like looking at a picture and remembering how the day felt. This was brand new. Brand new feelings and sensations. A perverse mixture of the living and the dead.

He could still remember the solid form of Krauser's chest. Warm, but empty. Krauser's lips on his. He had longed for those lips, yet here he was, trying to erase every memory of them.

Leon shuddered despite the hot water, closing his eyes tightly. He couldn't decide if he was betraying Chris or Krauser.

Or which one felt worse.


	6. Chapter 6

He didn't tell his therapist about the encounters. He didn't want to. He had, however, mentioned difficulty sleeping and she had prescribed some sleeping pills and some anxiety medication for "emergencies only". She had looked at him with concern as she spoke those words.

Well, this sure as hell was an emergency if there ever was one. Krauser had been there every night the past week and Leon found himself dreading going to bed. It wasn't that he didn't want Krauser there, that was the fucked up part. He wanted him there. Needed him. And that was the exact reason he couldn't sleep. He was right back where he started, sleepless, helpless and unable to let go.

He studied the sleeping pills with a frown, before popping the safety lock and shaking a couple of pills into his hand. He cast a guilty look at Chris before putting them into his mouth. He'd gotten the bad habit of crushing pills between his teeth, and he savoured the bitter flavour before gulping down some water he kept on the nightstand.

 _It would have been easier if I was back in Raccoon city._ Leon thought as he leaned back.

Back then he had been able to fight his way through the enemies, shooting his troubles away. Not that it really ended, but people's reactions were easier to deal with. They all expected him to have gotten over it, gotten over Krauser. Even Claire's eyes would glaze over if he wanted to talk about him, which was understandable, in a way. Most people moved on.

Chris was the only person he could talk about him with, but at the same time the only person he couldn't. He doubted Chris would be as forgiving if he knew what was going on in his head. Most people had only seen the gruff parts of Krauser. Not uncivil, directly, but impatient and brusque. The eulogies had proven that. People talked about how dedicated he was. How _professional_. How _determined_ , how _brave_.

Brave until the end.

 _But,_ Leon wanted to scream, _What about the way he loved? How fiercely loyal he was? Every part of him that I knew and loved?_

They probably didn't see any part of him worth loving. Krauser was a soldier. A mercenary. Known for his accomplishments on the field, but very little outside it. Not like Chris. Chris was well-liked by everyone, and Leon almost felt an unfair pang of resentment towards him. If Chris had been the one to die, he doubted people would have expected him to get past it.

But he had known Krauser. He'd seen the small gestures and change of tone.

  
Seen the parts of him worth loving. Seen the parts capable of loving with a passion few people would give him credit for. And Leon had loved him so much.

 

* * *

 

But life went on. The comforting familiarity of their routines dulled the pain left over from every night and Leon carried on, stuck in some hazy hell, trying not to think too much about it. He’d catch Chris staring at him sometimes, like he had back then, but he never said anything, probably waiting for Leon to let him in.

He didn’t see Krauser out in the real world anymore, and he didn’t know if it was an improvement or not, seeing as that meant he was a permanent guest in their bed at night.

He stopped seeing his therapist when she looked at him the way Chris did when he thought Leon couldn’t see him. It might not be the best idea he’d ever had, but it was easier to hide things from Chris when he wasn’t hiding them from someone else as well.  
They had breakfast, for once sitting by the kitchen counter instead of in front of the TV.

“Anything you want to do today?” Chris had that hopeful look on his face, and Leon hated having to disappoint him.

“No, not really.”

“Wanna go grab drinks? A movie?”

“I think I wanna stay home if you don’t mind.” Leon couldn’t stand to look at him anymore, the way his face had fallen.

Chris paused for a second, staring at Leon.

“You okay?”

Leon looked up, annoyed at himself for making himself so transparent. Surprised that Chris even picked up on it.

“Yes, of course I am. Why?”

“You seem… Different. Are you sure nothing is bothering you?”

“I’m fine.” Leon forced himself to smile and pat Chris’ arm.

“Okay,” Chris said after a long moment. “Okay.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

The first times Krauser had come, it had been in that distinct border between dream and reality. Now it had morphed until he didn’t know where reality ended and this… This fantasy, this dream, this delusion started.

So like before Krauser kissed him, his smooth lips making their way between his hips. Leon closed his eyes, trying not to think too much what this meant, having his dead lover visiting him every night, as another pair of lips found his. He jolted in surprise, teeth hitting teeth and he opened his eyes widely to find Chris above him. His dark hair was ruffled by sleep, but he was smiling despite what Krauser was doing to him further down.

Chris kissed him again. Gently at first, then deeper, as he tilted his head slightly, his hand stroking Leon's waist down to his hip. His hands were careful. Gentle.

Always.

There was never anything rough about the way Chris touched Leon. It wasn't like he preferred one over the other. Not like he preferred the softness of Chris more than the roughness of Krauser. In his head they were two very separate things, stored in different parts of his brain and heart all together. They shouldn't ever meet, and especially not like this. Not like either of them seem to mind. In fact their hands trailed over each other as they touched Leon, sliding strong hands over tight muscle.

Chris broke the kiss to stare down at Krauser, a playful smile on his lips as he pushed Krauser's head down further so that the bigger man almost engulfed all of Leon in one long, fluid motion. Leon groaned and jolted, not just from the physical aspect of it, but seeing them touch each other like that.

He'd never really fantasized about three-ways. Never dreamed of having Krauser and Chris share the same bed, but in this murky, dream-like state it was terribly erotic seeing their hands and lips on his body.

Chris started kissing him again, while keeping his fingers intertwined in Krauser's hair, some loose strands of it falling onto Krauser's forehead. Leon didn't know if he helped set the pace or just liked feeling the way Krauser's head bobbed up and down as his wet tongue worked around Leon's dick, but he enjoyed the sight either way.

They seemed to read each other’s signals pretty well, because Krauser shot Chris a look, and before Leon could ask, Chris leaned over to retrieve a bottle of lube from the night-stand.

Leon blushed as Chris handed it over to Krauser, since this most definitely proved that Leon and Chris had been intimate, but Krauser didn't seem to care. He simply squeezed some of the thick liquid on his fingers, working it slightly between them before moving his fingers between Leon's legs.

This was the first time actual penetration had been involved in the dreams, and Leon arched his back at the welcomed intrusion. Chris covered his mouth with his, his tongue flicking out to lick playfully at his lower lip. Further down, Krauser added another finger, working him gently, but determined, his tongue working the length of Leon’s erection.

Leon groaned, bucking against Krauser’s mouth, and Chris carefully put his arm across Leon’s hip, forcing him to lay still as Krauser finger-fucked him agonizingly slow. It was hard having the presence of mind to reciprocate the kiss, the sensations making him squirm and whimper.

“Are you ready?” Chris whispered, and Leon didn’t know how to reply. He wasn’t ready for any of this, but when Krauser increased his pace Leon gave a long moan that Chris seemed to take as confirmation.

Krauser gently withdrew his fingers, giving Leon one last lick of his tongue before he moved up, grabbing on to Leon’s hips so he could pull him closer. He lined himself up, rubbing his dick against Leon before sinking into him.

Leon gasped at the familiar, yet halfway repressed feeling of Krauser inside him, and Krauser leaned over him, not moving his pelvis as he grabbed Leon’s wrists.

Krauser started thrusting slowly, his face flickering. A startled whimper escaped Leon's throat as Krauser's face turned into one of the strangers from a bar. It happened so quickly he wasn't entirely sure what he'd seen, but he couldn't shake the feeling deep down in his gut.

He didn't remember the name, hell, he didn't really know any of their names, but he seemed to recall him being the first of them. The one with the cheekbones. They glided into each other, and back out, their images bleeding together before merging. Leon felt like he was being fucked by an old super 8 recording where the image hadn't been stabilized.

Chris leaned down to place a hot, open-mouthed kiss on his lips, not even reacting as the shadow of another stranger flickered through him and disappeared.

Krauser still had a firm grip around his wrists, confining him, making it impossible for Leon to squirm away. Chris had one hand on his hip and another around his chin, constricting his movements further.

They seemed to want him to just take it, and he tried to relax against the restraints.

He had thought Krauser was the one fucking him, but as Chris' fingers dug almost painfully into his hip he realized it must be Chris. The way they held their hands didn't make much sense otherwise.

Not that it did anyway. Chris liked to hold his chin like that, but the hand on his hip; That was all Krauser. Leon liked to grind his hips against Krauser's when they fucked, and Krauser enjoyed pushing him down. Sex with Krauser was like a fight. And he had loved that.

Chris liked it softer, and there was nothing soft about the way he fucked him right now, nothing soft about that hand on his hip.

Krauser pulled his hands up above his head, licking the thin, delicate skin on his wrists. Leon wondered if he could feel his pulse quicken under his tongue, but he stopped thinking altogether as a hand grabbed the inside of his thigh, forcing his leg further apart.  
It made Krauser hit that spot in him even harder, made the murkiness of the room clearer for a minute, and Leon flung his head back and moaned. Chris just followed the movement of his head with his hand, yanking his head back so he could kiss him again.

Krauser's mouth was hot against his lips, his teeth biting down on his lower lip as he forced the other leg apart as well.

It was obscene, but Leon felt like he was being spit roasted, like he was the sacrifice of some long-forgotten ritual. Krauser's hands were still pushing Leon's up above his head, and he couldn't move his head due to Chris' fingers. That combined with the hand on his hip and the two forcing his legs apart, he felt like he had lost control all together.  
Something about that train of thought made his head swim, like something about it was wrong, but as one of them released the grip on his hip, instead using both hands to lift his hips up, he found himself unable to think anything at all.

Krauser was able to bear down even harder in this new angle, and Leon whimpered and struggled weakly against the hands holding him down.

Another stranger peered down at him as he tried to look at Chris' face above him, and he gave a startled moan as the image flickered and disappeared. He loved seeing Krauser move, loved the feral way he stared down at him. The way Chris would stroke his thumb over his chin before pressing it gently between his lips. He willingly opened his mouth, letting Chris play with his tongue. The bitter taste of gunpowder seemed to egg him on somehow, and he moaned as he licked. The finger in his mouth seemed to grow, and Leon shut his eyes tightly. It felt wrong and intruding.

He really was like a pig at a spit roast now, and he shot his eyes up, tensing his whole body as something dark loomed over him. He couldn't make out the face, just a dark mass covered in arms. Its arms held him down, far too many of them and bent in awkward angles.

It was back to the Super 8. He was back to when he was a kid and watching old movies on projectors.

He tried to break free from the arms holding him down, but Chris' fingers just forced his head back in position whenever he tried to look away. The shimmering surface blistered and burned, and as the plastic melted he thought he could see all their faces in the bubbling surface before it changed and changed again. It went from dark to bright yellow, then red before finally going back to black. It looked like spilled coffee on a hot stove, bubbles forming and unforming. It didn't smell like coffee though, more like burned flesh. Like he was back in Raccoon City watching zombies getting their faces melted off by the fires that ravaged the city.

It wasn't just the smell, the figure above him had a million faces all at once. Not just the half-forgotten strangers. Not just Chris with his mild eyes or Krauser's with his ever-knowing glare. More than that. He saw zombies. Saw his friends he had failed to protect. Saw all those years of misery and pain merge with the pleasure between his legs, the thing above him hitting in all the right angles, with just the right force, his dick bobbing and aching for attention. Had him cry and moan and scream as layers of black and red bubbled away to reveal something underneath.

He almost didn't recognize his own face at first, didn't recognize the fresh-faced twenty-one year old going to his first real job. His hand reached down to his dick before he knew what he was doing, gripping it hard and pumping it in the same rhythm he was being fucked.

Leon smiled down at him, and he realized he had stopped smiling like he used to. Maybe he had stopped being happy like he used to. He wondered briefly if this was some sort of punishment. Punishment for moving on. For not moving on. Punishment for being weak.

Above him Krauser was looking scared. He had never seen Krauser scared before. Not even when he faced B.O.W's for the first time in South America. Maybe it wasn't so much scared as him being in pain.

Krauser started screaming. Leon realized he was screaming as well, in fact they all were. Leon came with a shuddering jolt, his release splattering across Krauser's face. Krauser looked as if he was about to pass out, his eyes started rolling back in his head as the blood spatters across his face started dripping down onto Leon's face.

He realized with a jolt he must be watching Krauser die, and he tried to free his hand from his dick enough to cradle Krauser's head, but someone's hand was right there to constrict him again.

"Jack...!" Leon started, but Krauser was already flickering and disappearing as the leering faces of all the strangers started laughing at him.

He gasped as he woke up. The darkened room from his dreams dissolving into the softly illuminated real world. Chris slept beside him, and he tried to suppress a sob, pressing his fist against his mouth. He had to struggle to keep the content of his stomach where it was, the images from his dream still vivid.

He felt sick. Disgusting. And horrifyingly horny. He slunk out of bed and into the bathroom like he had every night. Sometimes to wash off, other times to finish what Krauser had started. Or, like in this case, to do both.


	8. Chapter 8

“Why?” He asked quietly the next night, Krauser sitting by his window. Krauser turned towards him at the sound of his voice, his forehead creased in mild curiosity.

“What are you talking about, comrade?”

"What are we doing here, Krauser?" Leon tried to keep his tone casual, but the intensity of Krauser's stare had him falter a little bit. “Why are you here?”

“I never left.”

Leon laughed without any real mirth. “No, really. Why?”

"Because I know you." Krauser whispered. "I know you."

And he does. Probably better than Leon knows himself. Better than Chris ever would.

"You died." Leon said. His heart started beating faster and he found himself smiling because it was such a ridiculous thing to say. "You're dead, Krauser." He wished he could add "I saw your body", but he can’t, because he never did. There never was a body, and that made him unsure again.

Krauser didn't seem startled. It wasn't like in old horror movies where the ghost finally realize they are dead and are free to move on. Krauser simply closed the distance between them.

"Then we exist here," Krauser whispered, placing a firm and surprisingly warm hand on Leon's chest.

Leon lowered his gaze, staring at Krauser’s hand on him. This felt more intimate than any of the other encounters, and Leon covered Krauser’s hand with his own.

“Jack…” He started, but before he could say anything more, Krauser put his other hand on Leon’s cheek.

“I missed this.” Krauser mumbled softly, his eyes following the movement of his fingers as he trailed it through some strands of Leon’s hair. “Missed touching you.” He leaned closer, placing a kiss on the corner of Leon’s mouth. “Missed kissing you.”

There was no carnal desire left. No mind-numbing arousal, just the raw, painful stab of loss. Loss and love he had forgotten could encompass his body in such a way. At the same time Leon felt so empty, emptier than he had before, because now he was reminded with heartbreaking certainty that he was nothing without Krauser. And Krauser was nothing, literally nothing, without Leon.

 _Don't leave._ He thought desperately. _Don't leave me now. Don't leave me like you did. Not when I finally feel something again._

Because even if this feeling was killing him, it was something. What colours he had thought he’d seen with Chris was nothing compared to this.

“I won’t leave you.” Krauser mumbled against Leon’s lips. “I won’t ever leave you again.”

Leon leaned into the kiss, feeling himself slip away as Krauser put his arms around him.


	9. Chapter 9

Life was better.

Better than it had been, not as good as it once were, not like they had been when Krauser was alive, but whenever things felt too hard to bear, he’d remind himself that Krauser would be there at night. He was right there, like he had said. Always.

And life was also strange.

The days fluttered past him, something intangible that he kept trying to hold on to, without avail. People, locations, conversations… They were all lost to him. He was on a merry-go-round, cut off from the world, and he was happier for it.

Chris wasn’t. Leon still caught those looks, but they meant less now. There wasn’t really anything Chris could do, and he knew it as much as Leon did. Leon could fake being happy. He could fake being well.

They were kind of like strangers. Strangers that shared a bed and shared a table. They had fucked for a while, but detached. Leon would catch Chris’ looks of desperation during, where he tried to get contact, tried to make that connection again. Until they finally just stopped altogether.

It was an early autumn morning when Chris stopped Leon in the hall as he tried to brush past.

“Leon.” He murmured, lifting one hand carefully to Leon’s face. “Something has to change, love.”

“I don’t know what you’re....”

Chris stopped him before he could finish, putting his hand under Leon’s chin, tilting it up to his.

"It’s okay to love him." He said softly, his voice raw and open. “But it’s not fair if things are going back to how they were. Not for you and not for me.”

 _Nothing about this is fair._ Leon thought wildly, trying to prevent himself from laughing. Because nothing about this was fair, not to any of them.

"I'll stay with you until the ends of the world, Leon. You know that." Chris continued, clearly misinterpreting what he saw in Leon's eyes. "But I need to know this. I won’t leave you, but I have to ask: is there something I should know?"

“No…” Leon mumbled, feeling himself drift away again.

_In another moment Krauser stared down at him, his thumb trailing Leon's lower lip._

_"Swear you won’t leave me." He whispered._

"Swear to me."

"I swear." Leon finally said, unsure if he told Krauser or Chris.

He didn't know where his lie ended and where it began. And in the end it didn't even matter.

Chris looked down at him, smiling now, misinterpreting and misaligning. Like he always did.

 _Nothing ever changes,_ Leon thought bitterly. _I'll never change._

Buried to his neck along with Krauser somewhere. Buried too deep for anyone to ever be able to dig him back up again.

_Krauser's lips quirked as he cupped Leon's face, and Leon’s eyes fluttered shut at the contact._

"I swear." He repeated, eyes still closed, and in front of him Chris smiled.


End file.
